Tales of Warcraft
by Lokio
Summary: A series of unfinished Works. Little ideas or scenes typed out whenever I had the idea/urge to. No real order. No real meaning. Hope you enjoy reading them! R/R And sorry for lame summary.
1. The Carrion Fields

As stated in the summary, this is just a bunch of small ideas that are not tied to each other. Most were done while doing some quests or just chatting with people over WoW.

This particular one is written about my Night Elf Hunter: Anira.

Enjoy!

Sorry if it short!

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Anira stared down at the fields before her. All kinds of scourge wandered through out the land; Ghouls, Geist, Abominations, Necromancers. Her stomach knotted at the sights and the smells! Elune, the area reeked of death. The elf grimaced as she guided her gryphon towards the giant keep in the center of the fields. Orange sickly smoke drifted from the cauldrons and barrels around it. A combination of things she didn't want to know and the source of the smell. The white gryphon landed on a broken roof of the keep and the hunter notched an arrow in her bow.

Her duty today wasn't to kill any of the scourge but better be safe that sorry. The direct request was to scout the Carrion Fields for any civilians that had been left and were still alive. The snow gryphon she rode, along with nine others, were loaned for this exact trip. The rest had headed back except for Anira. She had yet to find a living citizen. She started to think there was no one left but she didn't go back to the keep. She couldn't go back empty handed. She wouldn't. Her hands twitched on her bow string and she lowered the weapon on her lap.

_Anira stared up at the black skies over Teldrassil, the stars twinkling in and out through the tree branches above her. Across her lap lounged a silver tabby kitten, which she stroked gently along it's back. It had been a gift from her brother, Aerandir when he returned from one of his trips across the sea. A pair of strong arms folded around her waist from behind and she smiled. Anira let herself relax against the older elf behind her and closed her eyes._

_"Aerandir... when do you think I'll be able to go with you?"_

_Aerandir shifted behind her and pressed his face into the back of her hair. "That eager to get away from here Ani?"_

_"Of course Aeran! It doesn't take long to explore every crevice of this tree. After about a hundred years it gets boring."_

_Aerandir laughed. "I guess so. I'll have to speak to father about it. He may not think you are ready enough to go exploring yet."_

_"Tch. Think so?" Anira sighed thoughtfully and gathered up a handful of her brothers long midnight blue hair that had fallen over his and her's shoulders. She started to braid it slowly. _

_"It'd be nice to spend some quality time together away from here. Your hunter training has progressed greatly as well. Who knows."_

"Heeeeelp! Someone please!"

Anira was startled from her dumb foundedness by the scream. Yanking her bow upright she kneeded the gryphon back into the air. Gliding in a circle they swooped towards the ground towards the voice. Running from a nearby crypt was a human female garbed in a torn black dress. She was carrying a bundle in her arms. The woman saw the elf mounted on the gryphon and started to run towards them.

Anira ordered the gryphon to the ground. Leveling her bow as they drew closer, the hunter aimed it towards a ghoul that was lunging at the woman. Releasing the arrow she heard the thunk as it hit the corpse and held out her hand to the human.

"Friend, I've come to help. Jump on!" The woman didn't take the offered hand but instead shoved the bundle into the hunter's arms. "What are you...?"

"It is late for me. Please, take my child."

"Late? They have medics at the keep..." She was silenced by a shake of the woman's head and her offered hand was pushed away once more.

"I'm going to change soon enough. I've caught the plague. Please take my child back to the keep. Make sure he is taken care of..." The woman looked towards the bundle with a sorrowful smile, her green eyes brimming with tears. She looked hesitant.

Anira felt her heart breaking but knew there was little time to object and had to leave now. Her grip tightened on her bow and she nodded. Smiling softly she took the woman's chin in her hand, "Name?"

"Name... Gabriel Hawthorne. Five months." The woman broke down crying at those words, "I'm Jennifer. Please!" The woman suddenly screamed as the ghoul from before landed on her back. It's jaw closed around her throat.

Anira cried out as her startled mount took to the air causing the mother to fall backwards into the snow. "I am sorry!" She said softly as the scourge collasped onto the woman. She craddled the sleeping boy to her chest as the gryphon flew home and she peered down at the small face. "Gabriel Hawthorne. Poor Child."


	2. Battle for Wintergrasp?

Don't you just hate it when a random mage puts up portals when you are waiting for Wintergrasp to start?

I do! This is one of those moments. Rogue and Druid are waiting for the Battle of Wintergrasp and have a little chat. Meanwhile a mage was busy fooling his comrades with a damn portal!

Enjoy!

Short one!

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Shouts rose throughout the city as it's citizens rushed around. Most of the crowd of adventurer's filtering into the great halls of the Silver Enclave or the Sunreaver Scantum respectively. It was something most people had grown used to; ignoring as it happened every couple hours. However, to the many heros and heroines it was much more. It was a battle that raged day and night between the horde and alliance. Each battle was a slaughter as people rushed to steal the keep that had been built upon the snowy land called Wintergrasp. Each battle was a test of strength to some. To others it was a practice of skills, a place to waste boredum or it was their job amongest the armies of their Leaders.

"But it is still fun isn't it Peee-tie-poo!" The bombay looked down at her owner and mewed softly. The rogue gave an evil smile up at the feline. "That is right!" She placed the bombay back down on her stomach and rolled her head to the left. From her sideways and slightly upside down view of the doorway she watched the people file in to the massive hall ready for the fight of Wintergrasp.

A face suddenly crossed her eye-line and the rogue looked up. "Mm, Krisonna... What do you want?"

Krisonna smiled, "Lecithin. Honestly... why do you sit like that?"

Lecithin almost felt the need to point out that she was actually laying down and not sitting. She didn't bother as the fellow elf pushed her up into a sitting position and took a seat. "It was comfortable... and Petie liked it."

"Petie? Oh, your cat." The pair looked down at the Bombay that was stretched out across the rogue's legs. "Why do you bother carrying her around?"

"She is my companion. Not like she bothers you." Lecithin smiled and scratched Petie behind the ears.

"I see. Anyways, are you ready to fight?" Krisonna looked towards the crowd that was starting to mass around the mage. "Big gathering today. Should be exciting." She said with a hint of eagerness in her voice and her eyes narrowed a bit.

The rogue looked at the druid with slight amusement. Krisonna was one of those feral keepers. Wild and free. Despite her obvious elven appearance if one looked close enough she reflected the powers of nature she guarded. Her dark hair was long and unkempt. Her soft purple skin was marred by scars from many fights; Animal and non. Silver eyes held a soft amber glow, a side effect of being a druid. Her nose was small and proper on her face. It countered her large mouth that seemed to always be smiling whatever the occasion held. Two long but small white fangs protruded over her bottom lip.

"Think so?" Lecithin looked back at the crowd. "I wonder what the horde will be doing."

"Who cares! Those orcs are filthy and monsters. I hope I get to kill a couple today." A long hand balled in her lap, gathering up some of the leather robe she wore. Krisonna then sat back and tapped a finger against her lips, biting down on one of the worn and broken nails.

"Mmm... I suppose." The rogue rolled her eyes at the druid and placed the Bombay on the ground. "Wait here till I get back, alright Petie?" Petie flicked her tail in recognition, seeming perturbed at having her sleep interrupted. Promptly she crawled under the bench and curled back up.

Krisonna suddenly linked her arm in Lecithin's and hoisted the elf off the bench. "I see the portal. Come on you! Lets be the first to go!" In a hurry the druid dragged her friend through the crowd. A crowd that wasn't rushing towards the portal to fight. It wasn't until they reached the magic that the rogue realized why.

"Petie!! Wait, Krisonna! That isn't the Wint-" She was cut off as the two tumbled through. A ripple spread across magical surface after their departure before revealing an image of Jania's Tower in Theramore.


	3. Harping the Harpies?

Shortest one yet!

Yahahahaha!

A blood elf Paladin and her red drake run into some fun in Storm Peaks. This is how she takes one out with her lovely Betrayer of Humanity! ;D

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Anevay tumbled backwards from her mount, the albino drake let out a low snarl as the harpy's claw graze his scaled back. It did no damage to neither him or his rider, who was free falling fast towards the ground. The drake snapped at the bird-person before pulling into a dive after her. Front claws caught the paladin's out stretched hands a few seconds later and his wings spread wide to slowed his decent.

_"Hang on!" _He shouted as he spirled to the left avoiding an oncoming harpy. Anevay closed her eyes having lost her sense of what was up and down. She clung with her life to her drake's claws until she realized that they were still dropping. _"I can't carry you like this while under attack. We are close to the ground. I am gonna drop you." _

"Right!" The paladin looked down as the drake released her!

She fell another ten or so feet and ducked into a roll hitting a snow drift. Anevay slid downwards a little farther, slipping off the snow drift and skidded to a stop on the frozen river. Trying to get her sense of balance back the paladin looked around in a daze. It didn't last long as a skreech above her made her jump to her knees only to be tackled by a swooping harpy. Her head landed with a smack against the ice and was pinned as the harpy's claw kept a firm grip on her face, the other resting on her breastplate. The claws dug long cuts across her skin and the paladin grabbed at the harpy's legs.

Grabbing the one pinning her face she pulled with all her might upwards. The harpy gave another cry as her claw slowly started to be lifted off. Blood spilled as the cuts grew deeper and longer as the harpy tried her best to hold on. It took a few seconds but the paladin finally got the claw off her face and twisted the leg. The bird-woman spread her wings, her other leg having no grip on the breatplate. With a shove and a shower of feathers the harpy flew back up into the air. She wasn't fast enough however as the paladin launched herself after the creature, axe leading the way. The weapon, glowing a blood thirsty red, burried itself into the harpy's back. But that wasn't enough. As the harpy fell back to the ground Anevay pressed all her weight onto the axe and listened to the satisfying crunch as it cut through bone, muscle and organs, eventually cutting the harpy clean in half.

The two portions of the body fell in a bloody heap on the river as Anevay landed hard on her knees, groaning softly at the pain. She fell back into a sitting position and sighed. After a few seconds a shadow passed over the paladin and another corpse of a harpy fell just to the right of her, head missing. Her drake landed on her other side and she gagged as she watched the head disappear into his mouth. Feeling woozy she shook her head, pulled off her gloves and went to healing the wounds on her face, soothing the sore skin.

_"Refreshing fight, yes?"_ Her drake blinked one of his golden orbs at her and she looked towards him.

"Eatting that head topped it off..." She said curtly, a deep frown on her face. Anevay slung her axe back on and climbed onto her mount's shoulders. Once seated comfortably the drake lifted into the air without comment.


	4. Newly Forsakenized

I had the urge one day to make a Undead of some sort.. and better yet! On a Pvp server. So while running around Tirisfall glades exploring the dead zone for any signs of something interesting, Yavena and her history came forth in all her splendid glory.

This is that history!

Longest one yet. Had a fantastic time writing this too!

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_Name: Yavena Hawthorn_

_Race: Forsaken_

_Age: Unknown_

_Profession: Engineer_

_Occupation: Freelance Killer, or Guard, for Hire._

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**Life**

_**Age 1 to 28**_

Yavena was the daughter of Johnston Hawthorn, a local farmer who made round trips to Lordaeron with a share of his crops. He would often take his daughter to town with him when she was in her early teens. Her family lived with a fond respect for the Light and their followers. The family always made time to go to church. She was the oldest of the Hawthorn's three children. Her brother Jerimah was second. The youngest was her second brother, Henry. Family was important to Yavena so she made sure her brothers were kept in line and did as they were told.

Being the oldest, however, she was the first to be married off. Yavena had caught the fancy of a resident paladin deciple of Uther that lived in Lordaeron. After a year of talking and being paired by her parents, the child grew on the paladin and he soon asked her father for Yavena's hand in marriage. Johnston agreed whole heartedly and the two were quickly married. The two moved into a house in Tirisfall glades and lived peacfully for a few years. In that time they had two children. A pair of boys named Lyle and Shawn.

It wasn't long though before her husband was drawn away to war again. This time by the Prince of Lordaeron. She waited sick with worry for him but continued to raise their boy's into fine young men. Teaching them the use of a blade as she trained herself with one of the guards that had been set to protect her while the master was away. That is when the plague hit. Yavena drove to protect her household and her children but it was not to be. The undead broke into her house one night and killed the two boys before her eyes. Yavena went into a mindless rage after the slaughter and went after the scourge with a single sword.

She was foolish and soon fell to the scourge. She cursed her husband for not being here and cursed city for not protecting them. She cried for her lost children. Yavena died at the age of twenty-eight with cold revenge on her mind and hatred in her heart.

**Undeath**

_**Age Unknown **_

It was many years later that Yavena found herself with the unknowning help of Sylvannas the Banshee Queen. Free from control. The woman stopped as she stared down at the corpse. In her mouth was torn flesh from the body. She screamed horrified and started to spit. If she had a stomach and gag reflexes she would have spewed her guts right then and there. Horrified by what she was doing the woman ran to the nearest body of water to clean herself of any taint. As she plunged onto her hands and knees in the stream did she first see what she had become. The reflection that stared back at her made her cringe.

Her skin was pure alabaster; her hands thin and decaying. Her fingers ended in clawed points, dried blood covering every inch of the white bone. She quickly hid them in the dirt with a look of disgust. Her once beautiful brown hair was a moldy green and hung in clumps on her head. The back had been chopped off and strands stuck out, covered with mud and the light knows what else. Her face looked under fed and her eyes seemed to sink slightly into her eye sockets. Small pieces of bone could be seen along her high cheeks and forehead where skin had been worn away. The yellow glow that stared back at her in place of her once bright blue eyes made her look away with a short sob.

Unable to stand to look at herself anymore the undead moved away from the water and wandered aimlessly through the area until she came across some corpses. Using whatever she could find the once proud woman retrived some disgarded mail armor. She quickly dressed herself in an under shirt before gearing herself. After somemore hunting she soon gathered up a sword and shield that had been tossed aside in a fight. Adorning her new weapons she straightened herself as best as she could and started her aimless wandering through the silverpine forest.

_**Forsaken?!**_

Months passed as she slaughtered everything in her way and slowly gained use of her body again. As she treked through the forest it wasn't long until she came across her old farmstead. She couldn't help but sense the saddness in the area as she slowly crossed the field towards the worn down house. Pushing aside the door she stepped inside, only to see another undead looming about the table. Thinking it was just a random scourge Yavena attacked with a gurgling scream. The male looked up as if startled but quickly responded with his own attack. After an exchange of blows the random undead spoke.

"Mindless scourge! You will not wander these forests for long!" His voice was rough as abused vocal cords were put to use, the perminate grin plastered on his face giving an ominous look. Almost childish it was; the flesh having been worn away long ago.

"Scourge! I am no scourge!" She spat, "Now die!"

Her next attack was blocked by the male and in a flash his long nails had grabbed her by the neck and shoved her against the moldy wall. "I am not scourge! I am a Forsaken! And you... you tresspass on our territory."

"Forsaken? What do you mean?!" Yavena struggled against the pin as the male pressed his decaying body up against hers. His face moved close as if observing her curiously. It was here that she noticed he had no eyes. Empty sockets stared back at her and she couldn't help but avoid the stare.

"Forsaken! Freed souls lead by the Dark Lady! These are our lands... filth." He hissed.

"No! No! This was my home. Before the plague.... Before the endless army of scourge... Father..Mother..." She broke off with a groan and slumped against the wall. Sorrow threatened to overtake her.

"You are not scourge?" The male pulled himself back and released the woman. Yavena fell to her hands and knees, claws digging into the old floorboards. "You are a Forsaken. You remember..." He grabbed her by what little hair she had and lifted the face to his own. "What is your name?"

"Yavena... Hawthorn. My husband left me for war. Left to protect Lordaeron. Left me alone! Alone... Paladin filth!" Yavena hissed angrily as her memories raced through mind. "My little boys gone. All gone. He never stayed where he was needed. I hate him! I hate him!" She roared and he released her head.

She slumped to the floor with a small sob. The male sat back his face unreadable. Finally after many long moments the male grabbed her by the shoulder, gently this time. "Seek revenge Forsaken." He whispered, "This paladin did you wrong. The humans who discarded you. Seek revenge for your lost children. Join us in destroying the scourge." He stood slowly and held his fleshless hand out to her. "Come with me."

With him... taking revenge out on those who had hated her. For leaving her to die. Yes! She would. "Yes! They will pay!" She rasped and grabbed his hand.

His grin grew as she lifted her to her feet, "Yes. They will! You time will be soon young forsaken! Soon. Soon. Sooon."

With that he guided her from the farm house and off to Lordaeron. Yavena was thrilled. They were going to the Undercity! To the begining of her revenge! The woman licked her worn lips with a grin. Oh yes! She could taste it!


	5. The Deathknight

_Death Knight, Zaji._

_Night Elf._

_I am not sure what is behind this one. Maybe I wanted to right something cute with a child? (I don't even know how she got him! Ta-ha.)_

_Still debating if I like it or not. What do you think?_

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Zaji looked down at the child in her arms. She placed a cold finger onto his cheek, gently dragging her nail across the soft warm flesh. He shifted turning his face away from her either from her cold touch or her nail she wasn't sure. Withdrawing her hand the elf smiled and wrapped the child up better in the blanket.

"Jordin!" She called loudly.

A man opened the door to the room, looking startled. He took off his glasses and brushed his brown locks from his eyes, "Zaji?"

"I require blankets and a carrier for this child." She turned towards him cradling the baby close to her face. Her smiled widened into a grin, " And you will be his guardian when I am away on business."

"What?! Lady Zaji.. I don't think that is a wise choice." Jordin said as he started to leave the room, "You aren't exactly a living being. Wouldn't it be awk---"

Zaji silenced the man with a dark glare. "You are not here to give me advice Jordin! You are here to do my bidding. Now Blankets! We've a trip to make with this little one."

The mage looked wearily between the two. He pressed his thin lips into a line as if to swallow whatever else he was gonna say and left the room. She turned back to the child in her arms with another smile. The boy had woken during the conversation and was looking up at the elf with wide black eyes. Staring down at him Zaji realized the child had no name. Or at least one she was aware of.

"Nameless baby.. Mmm." She murmured. Giggling she brought the child to her cold lips, kissing him softly on the forehead. He squirmed at the touch and she moved her head back. "Z'orodin will be your name."

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_Another little write up about the Death Knight. Decided to throw the two into the same chapter. Ho hum..._

_Anyways, What was Jordin doing? A note? Outlands?_

_What is the story with these two?_

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"What do you think you are doing?"

Jordin jumped at the voice, slowly looking behind him. Zaji stood in the doorway her arms folded across her chest.

"Nothing. Just looking through some old books that were left here. From the previous owners of course..." Jordin held up one of the old leather bound books blowing some of the dust off in her direction. His other hand quickly slipped the folded note into the pages of another book. "Quite fascinating you know..."

"Leave it to a mage to find books interesting." Zaji shrugged her shoulders sarcasticly and strode over to the table.

Jordin nodded slowly and opened the book. Pretending to flip through it the man found himself staring more at Zaji than the old pages. Despite being a dead corpse risen again in undeath, the night elf had kept her beautiful curves from her life. Her form fitting armor did more to show them off then hide them under bulky plate and chainmail.

"And what are you looking at?"

Her voice caused Jordin to look up slowly to meet her two glowing orbs. "Nothing lady Zaji. Just admiring a couple things. Now if you excuse me..." Turning the mage scooped up the stack of books behind him and turned to depart.

She watched him leave before picking up a book. "Oh, Jordin..." The man stopped, "Remeber. Tomorrow we start to trip to Outlands. There is much to be done to gain in strength..."

"Of course."

The death knight heard the door click shut behind her and Zaji's lips curled in a sneer. She dropped the book back onto the table and walked over to the window. Pushing aside the green curtains she looked up at the clouded sky. It had started snowing.


	6. Selthae

This story is a work in progress. I'll be editing this chapter over and over. =P

* * *

Selthae Sunstone sat behind a round and rather large stone table. The shop owner had left early that night and the young elf had taken up shop while he was gone. She was an apprentice of course but she had a knack for adding her own special touch to her jewelery that she made for herself or for sale. For today her choice was Malachite; a green mineral that was most commonly crystallized in copper. She found the stones to be beautiful in color with their blend of greens and since they were so common, she could use more than one in her designs.

Selthae had carefully cut the stones into oval shapes and kept them in a small wooden box that sat open and ready to her right. Reaching into the box she withdrew a couple stones and measured them up to the thin copper wire in her hands. She then set to work wrapping the wire around the stone in a cross pattern that cradled the stone like an egg, twisting the top several times to make sure the stone was securely in place. She then selected two more stones of small size, encircling each with a small piece of wire much like the first, leaving a small hook at the end. Once that was done she carefully hooked the two extra stones onto the necklace so they dangled on either side of the first one. A few twists to the wire made sure they were secure and weren't gonna fall off if handled roughly. Smiling she then capped both ends of the necklace wire and hooked a small thin chain with a simple open and close clasp for easy use.

Setting the necklace aside with the others the elf suddenly became aware of her surroundings when a shadow moved at the corner of her vision. Looking up sharply she reached for the kukris under her belt and turned her vivid green eyes to the open archway and the blood elf male who blocked it. She had made sure to leave the closed sign up outside so she wouldn't be bothered. But then why was he here? Did he miss it?

The male suddenly turned his gaze to look at the box where she stored the malachite and with a scowl Selthae snapped the box shut and closed the latch. "The owner is not in right now and we are closed. Is there something I can help you with, sir?"

"I'm only here to see for myself. How about you relax that grip on your dagger and maybe we can talk?" His voice was deep and had a smug tone.

Selthae's face flashed a quick look of surprise which she carefully hid under a curious expression, "See for yourself? There is nothing to see and there is nothing to discuss. As I said, we are closed. The master will be back tomorrow morning."

"Oh I think you are wrong, Miss Sunstone. We have much to discuss you and I."

The elf suddenly got to her feet in a flash and instead of pulling the dagger from her belt she drew a long wooden wand from her sleeve. The male was faster though and with ease he sprang across the table top, knocking over the box of Malachite in the process. Before the box even finished hitting the floor he had her sitting back in the chair, a dagger to her throat and her wand in his hand. He gave a small _tsk_ at her show of courage and smiled.

"I wouldn't try that again miss. The next time I may just strike you dead."

She gulped back a sudden feeling of fear. This elf was a smug bastard and knew where to find her without her defenses. "You won't. You obviously want me for something. You wouldn't kill me before hand."

The elf shrugged in a nonchalant manner, "You are correct. Unfortunately my orders are to not kill you. Just bring you in, by any means necessary. Will you come quietly?"

"What do you want with me? I am a mere jewel crafting apprentice."

"That may be so but you are also something more. Something much more, I'm afraid."

"I am no threat to you or to the city."

"That is where you are wrong. A warlock is always a threat. Those who consort with demons aren't exactly welcome anymore."

The warlock's pride made her smile as her reputation hadn't gone unnoticed by others. He knew what she was despite her ability to keep her secret and was very well informed. An assassin or spy; perhaps for a nobles guild in Silvermoon with a hatred for demons? Or some other organization? She stared at his face for several long moments wondering just exactly he and his master wanted from her.

She noted that the male wasn't handsome. He looked more rugged than most blood elves who loved their vanity. He had a long face with steely eyes of the darkest green. A jagged scar started at the left half of his temple and went down, disappearing under a black leather mask he wore to cover the lower half of his face. The only thing about him that had any sign of perfection was his skill and the long fiery orange hair that hung loosely over one shoulder and tickled her nose whenever he shifted.

"So you know my secret. I knew I was being watched ever since the Sunwell was returned to us. However, I have proved my usefulness thrice over when it came to war. I am welcome on these streets even if people don't approve of my actions. I have no information for you than you wouldn't already know!" She stated.

"Is that so?" He tucked her wand and her kukris, which he had stolen while they were talking, into a side bag. She frowned deeply at that but chose to remain silent in her objection. He then withdrew a long piece of cord which he held up before her. "My master will decide that. Now will you come quietly? Or do I have to force you out of here and risk alerting the city guards? They may enjoy having a warlock to jail up."

Selthae glared at him a small growl escaping her lips. She didn't like being threatened and she didn't like taking orders from a lowly assassin. She did, however, entertain the thought of running for it but her weapons were gone and she likely would be captured by him or worse; the city guards. Her other choice was to go willingly and figure just exactly how much attention she had garnered by the nobles. Sighing the warlock reluctantly held up her hands to the rogue who bound them as a precaution against her spells.

"Do I at least get to keep my bag of components and my spell book?" Her eyes shifted to a brown side bag that was propped against the wall next to the archway.

The rogue paused to consider the request then nodded. "Fine." He helped her to her feet and lead her to the door, grabbing the bag and slinging it over his shoulder in the process. The two then left the shop without so much as a disturbance, Selthae marching in silence as her captor guided her from behind.

The city was quiet save for a patrol of guards which they promptly avoided. The warlock wasn't really observing her surroundings that much in any case and instead was staring down at her hands. She wiggled her fingers experimentally under the thick cord but that rouge had been thorough. The only ability she had left was minimal so certain spells were out of her reach, like creating a summoning circle. So much for calling Belqua, her imp.

"Stop fidgeting so much." He ordered and she paused. Looking up she saw they now stood outside the Spire, home to the Reagent Lord and his advisers, along with high ranking magi. Swiftly he guided her into the shadows at the end of the curving ramp that led up to the building, staying low as a pair of guards marched passed. Once they were out of ear shot Selthae turned an eye towards her captor.

"We are going inside there? How do plan to achieve that exactly?" She hissed.

The rogue ignored her and instead was observing the backside of the ramp, running his hands through the shadows. He grinned as his fingers found whatever they were looking for. Keeping his voice low enough that the warlock had to strain her ears to even try to understand, the rogue muttered a word of magic. A password probably and she stared fascinated as part of the wall vanished. Wasting no time he led her inside, sealed the magical door behind them and gave her a slight shove to start walking. There was no light to guide the way and she stumbled several times over her gown as they started down the stairwell. Selthae wasn't sure how long they had been walking but after what felt like forever the rogue had her stop. He then squeezed around in front of her. There was a scrapping noise and another word muttered. A second door opened to their right and a warm glow from candle light filtered into the hallway. Squinting her eyes against the sudden light she was shoved into the room, causing her to stumble ungracefully to the carpeted floor.

Cursing softly in elvish she pulled herself back onto her knees, a soft chuckle coming from nearby. She turned her glare in that direction but saw no one; only a red colored wall with a simple tapestry. Wary of her surroundings Selthae took the time to observe the room. It was well furnished like much of the city. Red walls and a carpeted floor; Silk curtains fell in designs across the walls and the chandelier hanging from the ceiling was the only source of light. There was no insignia to tell which noble house owned this little hide away. Towards the front of the room was a wide chair with gold filigree and thanks to the ring on her finger she noted it had several protective enchantments.

Sitting in the chair was another elf. He was taller than most, wore the robes of office, and was very relaxed despite her presence. White hair was pulled up high in a topknot on his head and his face was lined with age. The rogue was leaning over the arm of the chair talking in soft tones to the noble. Both were ignoring Selthae on purpose, like a child who didn't deserve their attention. Anger welling up inside her the warlock squared her shoulders and sat as straight as she could on the floor. After all she herself was a noble, even though she had left her house, and felt she deserved to be treated as such.

Finally the rogue turned to look in her direction. He grinned at her and stepped back into the shadows of his master's chair. When he was fully gone she turned to look at the aged elf. She met his eyes with a neutral expression, refusing to lower them in respect for an elder. Maybe it would put a chip in his shoulder. The male didn't seem to mind the insolence, in fact he simple waved his hand for her to come closer. Climbing back to her feet she walked until she stood directly under the chandelier and only a few yards from the chair. Selthae could now see that the elf wasn't as old as she was lead to believe. His body was still strong and even though his robes were way to big for him, she could see the strength in his broad shoulders and hands. The lines of age were still there on his face but she guessed they were likely caused by stress and worry.

The room remained silent as both elves seized up each other for several more seconds. Finally the elf spread his hands in a welcoming gesture, "Selthae Sunstone. I welcome you into my humble abode."

"I wish the circumstances were different." She held up her hands, revealing the cord.

"I admit my nephew could of done a better job in escorting you here." The elf chuckled, "The cord is a wise precaution for both your safety and mine. I assure you they will be removed in time."

The warlock tilted her head in consent and smiled, "Why have you brought me here? You are a noble of high ranking. Couldn't you have summoned me with a letter? Perhaps an invite to dinner."

"Pleasantries are useless in time of war, Miss Sunstone. I have my reasons for doing it this way. All I can say is the twisting nether is restless. Magi of all ranks are currently having some pitfalls with their magic. Spells fizzling out or causing the wrong reaction is common. Some aren't even getting a response at all. I have come to wonder if the Burning Legion is up to something. Have you noticed anything strange about your own magic? Or your demons?"

Selthae drummed her fingers together as she thought about the question. She could lie but would that do? He obviously wasn't looking to hurt her, at least not yet. She currently had nothing to gain by telling him the truth but what if something was happening in the nether? The elf had a lot to lose if it was going to start affecting her as well. Slowly the warlock shook her head, "No. Not that I have noticed. It has been several days since I last spoke to any of my demons. I also have had very little use for my magic in the city. As you know I can't walk as freely as I used to."

The old elf nodded slowly, "I have a proposition. I give you the free use of your hands if you summon one of your minions. Maybe they have an answer to this dilemma of ours."

She mused over that idea. The warlock definitely would like an answer even if to satisfy her own curiosity, "I can't promise they know of what is happening to your magic but I think it is worth a shot. However, before we begin can I know the name of my...acquaintance?" Selthae could see him hesitate even if it was only visible by the careful expression he wore. She smiled, "You after all, already know mine kind lord. It would only be welcoming to return the favor before asking such a heavy request."

The elf smiled at her logic, "Zecele Sunstalker," He said at last, " And this is my nephew, Tilthan Sunstalker." He motioned with a wave of his hand towards the fiery orange haired elf, "Whom you've already met."

Selthae smiled. If those were their true names, they may help her in the future. A name was a powerful tool after all. "Pleasure is mine I am sure. Now we can get on with your request." She lowered her eyes and held up her hands. The noble nodded curtly.

From her right the rogue, Tilthan, emerged from the shadows and cut loose the cord with one of his daggers. He then passed her the bag he had taken from the shop but kept her weapons and stepped off to the right. She glared at him once more then retrieved the necessary items, one being a long piece of purple chalk. It was infused with magical properties that let her draw in the air and on the ground, no matter the surface. Dropping her bag she set to work drawing the small summoning circle on the floor. The purple runes glittered and wavered as if a small breeze was blowing through the room even though no such thing existed. Once the runes were complete she tucked the chalk into a sleeve and turned to the aged elf.

"I need a soul. I did not take my collection of shards with me to the shop tonight and I am afraid I need one to invoke the summoning. More powerful the soul the stronger the demon I can summon."

Zecele frowned at this but nodded to his nephew who retreated to the back of the room and returned with a large black case with golden latches, "You can take one from my collection. Just one."

Tilthan opened the case and held it out to the warlock who moved closer to examine. The inside was black velvet with an myriad of purple diamond shaped crystals. Each crystal glowed with a pink light and she knew the brighter the light the more powerful the soul trapped inside was. What the old noble was doing with such a collection the warlock was very interested to find out. Regrettably it wasn't the time for such questions to be asked. Instead she reached in and selected a shard of medium size that was dimly lit. She could feel the tingle of the soul as it reacted to her touch. The warlock murmured a small thank you as the rogue snapped the case back closed and returned to his spot by the chair.

Returning to the circle she cradled the crystal in the palm of her hands. She felt another touch against her mind as the soul tried to reach out to her. It was likely trying to call for help not recognizing it's original owner and she grinned to herself. The poor thing would need a priest and a new body if it wanted to be free. "Today's not your lucky day friend."

Realizing the two males were watching her closely she placed the stone down in the middle of the circle and contemplated on which demon to summon. Her first thought drifted to the fel guard. It likely would have the answers but she didn't want to risk summoning such a minion who would likely break free if the tenuous ties were to snap. Especially if her magic was weakening as much as the magi thought it was. She needed something easier to handle but still smart. Sitting cross-legged she closed her eyes to relax. Once she was fully settled she raised her hands and started to recite the words of magic focusing her will on the demon of choice.

Softly she called the demons name urging the minion to come to her, "Hesthea. My endearing succubus, I have a soul here waiting for you. It cries for freedom."

Long seconds passed as the runes slowly started to grow brighter. The crystal started to hum as the magic spread through the air and a small portal opened above it. Stepping through was a succubus, her black leather wings unfurling in a stretch as she alighted into the carpet. The portal snapped shut with a sucking of air as blue eyes focused on her mistress with a curious look and a small sensual pout formed on her lips. The warlock motioned with a finger to the floor at the demon's feet. Looking down Hesthea let of a purr of delight and picked up the crystal. With a feral grin she waved a hand and the crystal vanished into whatever storehouse the demoness decided to keep such treasures.

"A succubus? Interesting choice to summon before us Warlock." Tilithan sniffed with a warning look towards the older elf.

The succubus turned towards the voice, a smile forming across her face, "Males. Mmm, a gift for me mistress?" Hesthea didn't wait for an answer as she bounded across the room, landing before the rogue. Before he could react she had her arms folded about him like a lover would and nuzzled her face against his neck. "He smells so good too." The rogue shivered as the demon licked the exposed flesh on the side of his neck and purred.

"Hesthea. Leave him be. You are not here to play!" Selthae ordered in a commanding voice. The succubus looked back with a hiss of frustration.

"Why have you summoned me here if not to play Mistress? And denying this... tasteful little treat... a chance at pure perfection, seems like such a wassste."

"Because I have questions that need answers. I'll find you some other.. treat... if and when you answer my questions, Hesthea. Release him now." Selthae jerked her hand through the air in warning, fire dancing in her eyes.

Hesthea hissed again in frustration but reluctantly released the stunned and weak kneed elf, dragging a hand over his hip before retreating back a few steps. "As you command." She purred and turned on her hoof. The minion returned to her spot, falling into a kneel before Selthae and pouted up at her. "What can Hesthea do for you?"

The warlock stared the demon for several minutes to make sure they would obey before she looked towards the older elf who still sat in his chair, merely watching the ordeal with a curious expression. She waved her hand giving him the floor. When the succubus turned towards him she licked her lips curiously. Selthae could only imagine what was going through the minion's mind. As the old elf stood from his chair to approach the pair, the warlock took a peak towards the rogue who was leaning against the arm of the now empty seat. A blush was covering his features but she noticed that he didn't even try to take his eyes from the sensuous form of the succubus. She smiled inwardly at that notion and turned her attention back to the situation at hand.

"Hesthea was it?"

The succubus merely nodded, "How may I be of service?"

He bowed his head slightly a knowing smile crossing his features. Zecele then spread his hands before him, "I wish to know the state of the Twisting Nether. Is there trouble brewing?"

Hesthea stroked the end of her whip in careful consideration. Even through her lust addled brain a succubus was cunning. "I have sensed no issues concerning the situation of the Twisting Nether as a whole. A few of my...guests seemed a bit unnerving but never said what made them so." She shrugged her shoulders. The simple move caused her wings to spread a bit.

"Have you had any trouble concerning your powers? Or those you serve?"

The succubus shifted uncomfortably but masked it with a wave of her hands. All three elves didn't miss the gesture however. "On the demonic plane perhaps. Never here though." Hesthea's blue eyes drifted to the rogue at the chair, her lips curling into a slight smile.

"Perhaps?" He moved closer circling around the minion. He reached out stroking the backside of her wing where it connected to her shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"The energy doesn't feel right. Sort of like something is expanding in power and draining everyone else in the processsss." The succubus hissed and then pouted slightly when his touch vanished, "Several demons have gone missing in fact. If I had my guess I'd venture this world may be the target."

"Oh? And what gives you that impression, Hesthea?" Selthae snapped and the runes holding the demon flared in a burst of energy. A not so subtle hint that the succubus should watch her tongue and remember where she was.

"You wouldn't ask unless whats happening there is affecting the world here. Such a shame too. Some of those missing were such fun toys." She looked towards the noble elf as he came back around her side. She twisted her hair around one finger. She spoke to Selthae although she kept her eyes on the elf, "Can I play now Mistress?"

Zecele merely smiled. "Would you venture a suggestion as to who may be causing such a troubling event?"

Hesthea clicked her tongue and shook her head, "It could be anything. The Legion is large and varied. Best I can tell you is watch your backs citizens of Azeroth. War will again be upon you in due time." Blue eyes flashed dangerously and the succubus snapped the whip against her leg, wiggling in pleasure at the shock of pain.

The noble nodded again and started back to the giant chair. He gave a passing glance to the warlock who understood perfectly. Stepping forward she started to speak the words of magic and once she was finished the demon began to turn transparent, returning back to her original plane. "You are dismissed." She whispered as the demon at last vanished from sight.

The warlock rested back on her heels arms folded across her chest and stared off into space. The summoning had taken a little more from her than normal but she shrugged it off and thought about the conversation, barely noticing the broom that drifted past to clean up the now magic-less chalk that covered the floor. It sent a billow of purple dust into the air before returning to another sect of the chamber. Another attack from the Burning Legion? Or was the succubus lying? Her brow furrowed in wonder curious more to the idea that one of her minions would actually DARE to lie to her than one of them doing so. It was in their nature to do such things after all. Neither question held very much surprise in any case. The Legion had been attacking Azeroth for several years now, another war against them would be no different. Maybe the fluctuating powers of the magi had nothing to do with the demons. It could be just a natural occurrence of shifting energies of the nether. Lifting her gaze she watched the other two blood elves speaking in hushed tones to themselves likely coming up with their own assumptions about the information. Zecele was listening as his nephew speak with a fevered twitch of his mouth; he seemed more on edge than the older elf.

"Well my esteemed captors," She rose her voice with a tone that captured both of the male's attention, "Now that we have an answer although not one we would of liked to hear, what do you purpose we do?"

Tilthan stared at her with narrowed slits of green, his lips pressed into a firm line. Every inch of his face dripped with suspicion. The rogue clearly thought was a hoax; nothing more than a planned joke against the two Sunstalker elves by her and her demoness.

Zecele leaned back in his seat folding his hands before him in thought, "Obviously your demon is a very cunning creature who wishes to cause us great discomfort over a natural occurrence," The warlock bristled at the subtle accusation but the elf continued, " Or something is terribly wrong and Azeroth may be in for another fight for its humanity."

"I've never had a minion lie to me before," Selthae assured the pair as well as herself, "I hate to think one would start now. I can also assure you, " Her eyes turned on the rogue and she brushed back a strand of cream colored hair, " that this is no hoax of mine."

"Would you suggest we go and find out if this Hesthea's story is true?" Tilthan questioned, eyes on his uncle.

"And how do you figure that we get to this Twisting Nether of yours?" Selthae interjected and raised an eyebrow curiously.

Rather than answering the rogue continued, insistent, "If the Legion is seeking to assault us again, we must know!"

"Blood elves have endured the ruining of our lands from the scourge, the betrayal of our king and the trials laid before us by the Horde. We will endure." She tilted her head with a serious expression. Tilthan was glaring daggers at the warlock but she ignored him and turned her gaze to the old elf. Stepping closer she spread her hands, palms up before her, "Lets look at this rationally. Have any of the other casters, horde or alliance, complained of these ill effects? Or have the Naaru suspected anything from the Legion?"

Zecele's face contorted in memory but it was clear as day to the warlock what his answer was, "You haven't even asked them. For all you know this could be a singular attack on the Blood Elves from something within. One of our own perhaps. Have you sought to alert the Regent Lord?"

"The Regent Lord has enough on his plate already." Zecele stated in a firm voice before she could continue with her own subtle accusations, "With the Lich King dead his focus is more centered on the thin and breakable ties of the horde and the ever looming threat of the Alliance. As well as the politics and government of our own city." He drummed his finger tips together and the warlock could sense a plot forming in the back of the noble's mind. Tilthan was coming to the same conclusion and both of the young elves were watching him silently. After a moment the old elf continued, "No, we will handle this on our own. We will find out of this is an attack from within our own beloved city. You two will do just fine for a task li-"

Immediately the two elves started spouting their displeasure before he could finish.

"You can't saddle me with this... warlock! For all we know she could be in consort with these fiends!" Tilthan nearly shouted.

"The nerve you have to accuse me of betraying my own kin!" Selthae retorted. "I have done what you have asked of me. I gave you your answer. I am free to go now."

"You betrayed your kin when you become a warlock. As far as I am concerned you were just part of Princ- Kael'thas' little army to keep his city believing in him! You should be jailed demon worshiper!" Tilthan returned.

The warlock's face was flushed red with anger at that last insult and she balled her hands into fists. The energy from that anger was released in a sudden rush causing a wave of heat that fanned out across the carpet creating a circle of crackling fire. The rogue jumped back in alarm, avoiding the wave with ease. The elder made no move to leave his comfortable seat and the flames washed against him without so much as a singe. As soon as it started the hellfire receded leaving burnt and smoking ring with a very angry elf in the center. Before either of the two could continue their barrage Zecele slapped his hands together. A high pitched ringing washed through the room and both rogue and warlock covered their ears with a cringe. A breeze as cold as the arctic winds and just as strong filled the chamber a second later, crackling with magic and blowing out what flames were left. The two subordinates were cowed by the spell and when it ended they neither looked at each other or at the source of the power.

"You are both acting like children!" The noble's voice was strong and echoed throughout the small room, "Learn to set aside your differences and lets get this quest over with!" He turned his gaze towards the warlock, "Miss Sunstone, please. Control your anger and don't let that demonic taint ruin your sense of good judgment." Zecele then turned his icy stare to the rogue, "And nephew, keep your beliefs to yourself for just this once. This is no time for you to force your displeasure on others and I expect to see no blood split until this situation is dealt with."

Both elves nodded their heads slowly, each sneaking a glare at the other but remained silent. Satisfied Zecele relaxed once more into his chair. "Now as I was saying. I want you two.. _together_... to find out exactly what is going on here. I want you to start by exploring the city first. See if there isn't some cultists hiding out or something to that effect. And I don't want to hear a complaint until it is done with."

The two nodded again neither daring to speak.

"You'll meet up tomorrow morning at sunrise outside the jewel crafting shop. There you will begin your search. Every inch is to be thoroughly examined and no quarter given, but do it subtly. We don't want to raise any alarms, right?" Zecele raised his eyebrows and smiled as both replied with a small agreement. "Good. Now be gone from my sight!"

At that dismissal the warlock retrieved her bag and retreated from the chamber without so much as a look back to the two males. Tilthan also retreated from the room by a door in the back, bristling with un-vented anger. Once the two were gone the old Sunwalker magister sank lower into his chair and wondered if he was doing right by making those two work together. "I may have just doomed my poor city," He murmured. That brought a smile to the aged elf's face and he let out a chuckle.


	7. Scribbles

Areina (Rina)

Assassination Rogue

Human

A poverty stricken child of war Areina was taken in by a noble of Stormwind. She had been caught trying to steal something from him and impressed with her skill the noble, rather than punishing her, trained her to be part of his house guard. Eventually though she became more of a tool. Her lord had a certain taste for gambling and an even bigger appetite for gold. He was known for making a wide range of bets and gambles going from a simple game of cards to dog fighting. He always guarenteed himself a win; More often by cheating than skill.

The losers, and even the winners, had a hard time paying up the gold or other fine things. Looking after the payment of those said items was Areina's job. A job that required more killing than talking. In return for her services the young women was given a bed to sleep in and food to eat as well as clothes to wear although she prefered the free movement of leather armor than fine cloth.

She was often mistakened as the noble's daughter and soon that became her disguise to get into different places.

After sometime though she grew tired of the restrictions she was limited too. She was kept inside unless she was training or on a job. She was by his side from the morning the man awoke to the moment he went to bed. Areina was full time and growing restless. Making up her mind one night she decided to flee and find more purpose for her new abilities.

Leaving Stormwind she changed her name to Rina as well as cutting her blonde hair. She dyed it a soft russet brown and now armed with a new look the young woman set off to explore the world outsides Aristocracy. Having no place to go at first she went to the Abbey in Elwynn forest and sought scantuary for a few days. Here she helped with any troubles that plagued the poor place, even meeting up with a former defias highwayman who worked out in the stables. From him she learned the finer art of theft and expanded her knowledge of weapons.

* * *

Sophie Lane walked with languid grace down the street, deftly side stepping the very many and very busy citizens who ambled through the market. The rogue would of loved to stop and admire the many vendors but unfortunately today was all business and there was no time to browse. Her contacts had very little patience and Sophie didn't want to disgruntle them anymore than was needed; angry customers were so difficult to handle. With a long sigh she adverted her eyes from a stand that was selling fresh pies and changed direction.

The road took her out of the market and across a nearby bridge into a more quiet section of the city. She had affectionately come to call this place the '"Silent District" though it was more commonly known as the Old Town. Why it was called that Sophie never really found out and neither did she really care. Turning the corner she gave a casual glance towards a set of stairs that led to a trio of three buildings. The center building was home of Stormwind's information experts, SI:7. Her speed slowed and eventually she stopped to stare at the old whitewash stone and brown roofing with a wanting look. While the rogue considered herself well trained in the art of intelligence gathering she wasn't part of the 'Big Boys' and felt very insignificant around the pros.

Clicking her tongue she watched as two men emerged from the building talking quietly to themselves. Interest piqued she continued to watch them as they crossed the courtyard and entered the armory next door. The armory was a common place where ones who fought the battlefront against the Horde conversed. It was also another area of interest Sophie rarely got to visit. She didn't have very many battle stories, in fact she rarely confronted even the lowest ranking horde toe to toe.

When neither of the men emerged the rogue turned away and continued on to an old tavern that sat between two shops. A sign above the door had an image of a smiling pigs head and read: The Pig and Whistle. It was her favorite tavern in the whole city and her center of business. Avoiding a pair of off duty guards that sat near the entrance she went inside and removed her dirty cloak, draping it over one arm. Her mind still on the two men she gave the room a quick and distant look. Surprisingly it was rather empty and she had no trouble spotting her guests. A pair of dwarves sharing a rather large keg of ale over a table laden with several empty mugs already.

Neither looked very disgruntled but the rogue figured that was more because of the ale than patience. Smiling inwardly she crossed the room with a light step and grabbed a nearby chair. Sitting herself down next to them in a flourish meant to grab their attention, she grabbed a mug full of the brew and leaned forward. "Now my dear gentlemen! I hope I haven't been keeping you waiting very long. What can do for two charming chaps such as yourselves?"

* * *

"Ethane? Are you listening to me?"

Ethane Cowl looked up from the maps he was looming over and turned to his blonde haired partner, Cody Reed. The younger man was looking at him expectantly. "Huh? What did you say?"

"You were day dreaming again weren't you?"

Ethane rolled his eyes upwards as his lips twitched in a slight smile and Cody knew what that ment. Dragging his chair closer the blonde leaned towards his friend. The brunette shifted away and returned to looking at the maps, pretending to study them carefully. Each revealed the areas where the horde and alliance clashed in repeated battles along with defense positions, land markings and the sort. Grabbing a map of Hillsbrad he drew it closer, glancing up only when Cody cleared his throat.

"You aren't going to tell me are you?" Cody was met by silence and he frowned, "Tell me her name at least?"

"Why do you always assume it is a girl?"

Cody grinned, "Because I can read you like a book! Come on, maybe I already know her. I can tell you if she is even worth your time; or mine."

Ethane sighed heavily. He knew the man wouldn't give up until the whole story had been told and he had given his full opinion on the matter. Sitting back in his chair the warrior scratched his cheek absently. "Fine. It is Alice. Her name is Alice."

The mage nodded slowly and burried his arms into the long sleeves of his robe, a crooked smile on his face. "Good name. Where did you meet her?"

* * *

The hiss of wind from the arrow was loud as thunder as Lecithin watched the red fletching kiss her cheek like a feather. A second later she disappeared into the river, the cold water swallowing the rogue without a trace. The archers reacted quickly and angled their arrows shooting into the churning water. It was soon littered with arrows, the shafts drifting down stream but there was no sign of their target or the bundle she had stolen. The lead elf whose brown hair was cropped short to his skull dropped from a tree branch and raised his hand as a signal. The rain of arrows stopped as he appraoched the water's edge and stared up and down the river bank. He saw nothing under the dark surface.

"She is gone." The elf swore silently in his own language then turned to his patrol, "Fan out. I want both sides of this river searched thoroughly for two miles. She can't escape that easily!"

With nods of understanding the elves split off in pairs, vanishing like ghosts into trees. The dark haired elf turned back to the water with a glare before following his own orders.

Several meters down stream Lecithin hung onto an old tree trunk, half submerged and bobbing like a leaf as she heaved ice cold water from her sore lungs. Her body was starting to become numb from the chill, armor and clothes soaked clean through. Biting her lip to keep her teeth from chattering she couldn't help but grin to herself. Those elves would be searching for hours and she planned to be long gone before they could even find a trace of her whereabouts.

After giving the bank a good examination the rogue climbed out from the water and stumbled into the trees. She had to find someplace safe to rest before she froze to death. Mustering as much stealth and strengeth as she could the assassin stuck to the shadows and started to make her way north. The trip was slow as she jumped at every twig snap and rustling leaves that it was close to dawn before she made it to the cave where she had first set up camp.

In minutes Lecithin had a roaring fire. The rogue then reached under her armor and grabbed the small leather satchel that was tucked just under her belt. She tossed it up and down a couple times weighing her reward in the palm of her hand before setting it down on the ground. Next she stripped down to her undergarments and threw a blanket about her shoulders. She should be safe here for the next several hours at least, clothes fully dry ot not she didn't wish to stay much longer than that.


	8. WIP Sorta

The room grew quiet as Anirah Hawthorn sat back in her chair, her hands folded over her mouth in contemplation. The paladin before her pressed his lips into a thin nervous line but didn't break contact from the brown eyes that bore into his own. He had to stand his ground now that the question was in the air, but he couldn't help wonder if he brought up the subject at the wrong moment. No, it was the perfect time; Even though the priestess was in the middle of a conference with her fellow colleagues this conversation had been held off long enough.

Anirah finally smiled at him; a tight tense smile. Turning to the small group that sat around them she got to her feet, "It seems my brother can not stand to wait anymore. Alice..."

A young girl in her teens stepped up beside the older woman, brushing strands of blond hair from her face. "Yes?"

"See to it that the others are shown to their rooms and have received their assignments. The villages can not wait much longer for our help." Anirah handed over the folders which the girl pressed close to her bosom.

"Right away." Alice nodded and started towards the door, pushing it open as she addressed the crowd, "If you would please come with me. We'll get you settled and ready for your travels in the morning."

Murmurs rose among those gathered as they left the room, casting curious glances back at the pair. Only once the door was closed and the two siblings were alone did Jordan let loose the breath he was holding. He stepped forward and spread his hands before him in an apologetic gesture, "Sister..."

"You were never the patient one." She had taken her seat once more and motioned for him to take the chair to her right. He did so with no objection and looked at his older sibling with a neutral face, "What brought on such an idea from you?"

"Have you ever considered it yourself?"

"That our father may still be alive? Every day Jor. Every day... But I consider it blasphemy to go and actually try to find him!"

"But why? If he is out there, somewhere..." His brow furrowed in frustration as he folded his arms. "Those letters we reciev-"

"There is no evidence that those letters even came from him." She replied curtly. He looked away from her with a huff, his eyes rolling. She resisted the urge to tell him to stop acting like such a child, but kept her cool and rested her chin in the palm of her hand, "Our mother wasted the rest of her life trying to find him. She left us to be fostered by the church and not onc..."

"I still think we should look for him." Jordan interrupted and looked back at her, his eyes almost pleading now. It was a look she knew all to well but Anirah knew she couldn't give in this time.

"There are more important people who need my attention and energy now. I don't have the time to go on a wild goose chase."

"What is more important than our family?" The pleading look was gone as Jordan slamed a fist onto the arm of the chair.

Anirah stood up and stepped over to him, taking his trembling chin into her fingers, "Those who are wounded, dying and homeless. I am more than just your big sister now Jor. Please don't make me choose between those who need me and my family."

Jordan jumped to his feet and took her hand in both of his. He stood several inches taller than her but he still looked like a child in her eyes. "But I need you too Anirah! I can't do this without you... I can't hunt for him alone. Even if I found him, I don't think I'd be able to convince him to come home. You could."

Anirah slowly shook her head back and forth, "I won't. Not today, not ever."

He stepped back and ran a hand through his blond hair, ruffling the short strands into a tousled mess. As he started to pace his sister searched his face for several seconds. He was conflicted she could see that, but he was also determined. She bit her lip to hide her consternation before grabbing his hand again. The gesture stopped his pacing but he didn't look at her. His eyes were on the closed door and she actually feared that he would bolt for it any second.

"Jordan." He looked at her then and she smiled, "Please just spend the night thinking over what you and I have discussed. If you still want to go searching for him in the morning speak to me and I will give you what help I can to start your journey."

Jordan had already made up his mind but he took her hands once more and nodded, "Okay. Tomorrow then."

"Tomorrow."

He backed away from her releasing her hands before turning and departing from the room. The priestess stared at the open doorway before she herself started to pace across the chamber and run her thumb over her lip, biting her nail in worry.


End file.
